


A Lullaby for the Brokenhearted

by StroopwafelDetective



Series: Newsies Tumblr Requests [4]
Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Autumn, Canon Era, Hurt No Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Violence, Not Beta Read, One-Sided Attraction, POV David Jacobs, POV Third Person, Past Tense, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pining, Possibly Unrequited Love, Post-Canon, Rejection, Sad David Jacobs, Self-Hatred, Strained Friendships, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:15:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29548479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StroopwafelDetective/pseuds/StroopwafelDetective
Summary: The seasons changed, and David's feelings for Jack stayed.━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━▷ A tumblr request ◁Prompt: I couldn't find a prompt list but maybe Davey having an unrequited crush on jack?
Relationships: David Jacobs/Jack Kelly
Series: Newsies Tumblr Requests [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2170872
Kudos: 10





	A Lullaby for the Brokenhearted

David kicked at a pile of fiery-colored leaves on the sidewalk. They twirled up into the air, with some ending up being swept overhead by the wind- but most weakly slumping back down to the ground where they belonged. He stuffed his hands in his pockets as he continued walking, his fingers grazing past the dollar and three dimes his mom had given him for groceries. She requested he'd go out, purchase some food for the next few days and simultaneously _"catch a little bit of sun."_

He scoffed when he examined the sky above. _The sun must've forgotten to show up._

It was one of the reasons why he hated this time of year- another reason being the fog that would sweep the streets before the afternoon arrived. Manhattan looked strange when coated in a thick layer of mist. Otherworldly, barely recognizable.

He knew was close to reaching the marketplace near City Hall. He had to continue strolling down Park Row and pass its intersection with Spruce Street. He had spent a lot of time there the previous year- it being the location of Newsies Square. 

It still felt unreal to him how he'd been a significant part of a citywide strike. It had ended a little over a year ago. Life had been so different back then; after his father had lost his profession due to a factory accident and David had offered to take on a temporary job as a newsboy. Les being the sprightly younger sibling that he was, had begged to join him.   
Mr. Jacobs had allowed it as long as they promised to go back to school as soon as possible.  
  
That’s how they ended up working for The World- and meeting Jack Kelly. They ended up closing a deal. A partnership. It was all thanks to Les, really. Little kids just happened to sell more papers, as they were more likely to gain the sympathy of the wealthy. Jack had demonstrated to David how to sell the latest news; through the means of lying. Something Jack simply preferred to refer to as _"improving"_ headlines. 

When the strike started, Jack and David proved to be a greater team than originally anticipated. Davey was well educated, yet reserved and unable to relate to the working kids in the city- how to appeal to them, for that matter. Jack, on the other hand, was a natural-born leader thriving on boldness and charisma- but lacked knowledge of legal terms and laws. (Not that he was one to obey those laws in the first place.)

They complemented one another. Leading a strike wasn't easy- far from it. They were just kids left to fend for themselves in the face of corruption. Yet against all the odds, the union had been able to proudly proclaim victory over Pulitzer and Hearst, and all the other newspaper owners of New York.

Things soon returned to how they had been before. Newsies got back to walking the streets, carrying the banner. David's father recovered and got his job back, and David and Les in turn went back to attending school whilst New York got colder; summer descending into fall.

Fall turning into winter- and so on, until summer descended into fall once more.

The seasons changed, and David's feelings for Jack stayed.

He wasn't able to grasp these emotions at first- wasn't able to distinguish them from platonic affection. It took him months to realize friendships _weren't_ supposed to feel like that. They weren't supposed to create the impression of being unable to breathe, they weren't supposed to tug at his heartstrings, making him long for more.

And perhaps the most obvious determinant of all; friends weren't supposed to think about kissing friends.

David just wished he could get rid of those thoughts somehow. These rotten desires infesting his brain like maggots. This area of Manhattan reminded him of Jack too much- he just had to keep his mind occupied and his head down until he would reach City Hall. He focussed on what to get for dinner, summing up the prices in his head. 

Until an all-too-familiar voice drowned out the other noises of the street. _"Extra extra! Stabbing in Broadway! Read all about it!"_

David let out a pained sigh. _Of course._

He hesitantly found himself moving closer. It didn’t take long for him to spot the source; an outstretched arm waving around a newspaper above the crowd of passersby. _"Extra extra, man kills wife, then himself! Frightened son witnessed murder!"  
  
_His voice sounded way too cheerful for these gruesome headlines-that probably were nowhere to be found in the paper, anyway. Jack didn’t seem to have noticed him yet- and David wasn't even sure if he could gather up the courage to approach him in the first place.

They hadn't seen each other since... It must've been a week or two ago, Davey realized. Despite that, he still was burdened with these irrational feelings which refused to go away. A well-dressed woman approached Jack before David had the chance to. She handed him a cent, and Jack gave her the pape in return. _"Thank you, Miss."_ David couldn't see Jack's face from this angle, but he imagined him shooting her his famous _Jack Kelly_ grin. 

As the lady continued her stroll, Jack reached for his bag, pulling out a new pape. Held it up in the air, like he needed the whole world to see. _"Stabbing in Broadway! Extra, extra, man crushed to death on Brooklyn Bridge!" You heard it here first, folks!"  
_

David took a deep breath. He could do this- _probably. Probably not._ "Maybe tone it down a bit," he said, approaching his friend from behind. "People might catch onto the fact that you're making it up."

“I ain't makin' them up, you bastard, I'll let ya know that I-” Jack began to spout, turning around to face David- his face immediately softening once he laid his eyes on him. His lips, curling into an apologetic smile. "Ah, m'sorry Dave. Didn't realize 'twas you." he said, unexpectedly pulling him into a tight hug- taking away David's breath in more ways than one. "How have you been? Still doin’ good in school I bet, eh?”

Jack smelled nice, like freshly-washed cloth and burnt matches. And although there was a whiff of sweat, Jack's odor left David pleasantly dizzy after they parted. It almost made him forget he had yet to answer Jack's question. “Uh- yeah. My performance at school has been... Sufficient." he managed to choke out. "How are you, Jackie?"

"Well. I wasn't kiddin' when I said I wasn't makin' up those headlines. I think they finally decided to lay off those lousy reporters or somethin'." Jack replied. "Either way, it's been good for business."

-“You didn’t make that up? That's a first." 

“Yeah, _funny."_ Jack rolled his eyes at him. "It’s all in here- why don't you read for yourself, huh?" he teasingly nudged David in the chest with the scrolled-up newspaper. “Care to buy one, Mister?”

David felt his face flare up, and he hastily started rummaging through his pockets to get a coin. "There you go." He threw Jack a dime, which he caught with effortless precision.

"Thank you, good sir." Jack grinned- but his face fell when he double-checked what was in his hands. "But uh, I gotta let you know Dave- these only cost a _cent_." 

"I know." David replied. "I sold them myself. It's fine, Jackie." he assured. "You need it more than I do." His face inched closer to the paper, skimming through the walls of text on the front page. An article about William Jennings Bryan, The New Yorks winning the Sheepshead Races, and... 

  
**STABBING IN BROADWAY.  
━━━✦━━━  
Two Men Held Up a Crowd and Landed in Jail.  
  
  
**

**AGED MAN KILLS WIFE AND HIMSELF.  
━━━✦━━━  
John Reider, Made Insane by Jealousy, Commits Double Crime.  
  
**

David huffed and shook his head as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. He continued looking through the pages, from the front to the back. “You weren't lying. It really _is_ in there- all of it.”

"Hey, what'd I tell ya, huh?" said Jack. "It's legitimate stuff."

David went back to the first age and decided to read the short article about Broadway stabbing. Not just the headline this time. He didn't know what he had been expecting, but the circumstances weren't as serious as the title had made it out to be. "This is called _Yellow Journalism._ " he said. "You didn't have to be misleading because the writers did it _for_ you."

-"What the hell you on about? It's true news."

David pointed at a line in the article and moved the paper so Jack could see. "But they... Stabbed each other with _painter's_ _knives?_ "

Jack was quiet for a while. "Those can be pretty sharp."

David let out a chuckle. "I wonder what that quarrel was about." his eyes drifted over the article again, despite having seen all there was to read. "It doesn't say." 

"Well, must've been serious enough to stab at each other with art supplies." Jack sighed, as he put his hands behind his head. "I guess we'll never know, huh." 

"Yeah." David inaudibly replied. His eyes met Jack's, and David realized he had almost forgotten just how stunning his eyes were. Earthy, self-righteous, and an amount of depth beneath that Jack preferred to keep hidden, but David immediately had recognized the first time he gazed upon them.  
  
This feeling he got observing him, this wonderful amount of giddiness almost made him feel like the stinging heartache that came along with that was worth it.

“Jack- can I ask you something?”

-“Sure, I'm an open book."

David pressed his lips together, only then realizing just how afraid he was. "We're good, right? You and I?"

A silence. He prepared for the worst- and Jack burst out into laughter. It sounded forced. Unnatural. “What kinda question is that, huh? We see each other plenty."  
  
“We don’t see each other as much as we did during the strike, that’s all.” David mumbled. "I'd... like to see you more often."

Jack replied with a scoff, unmistakably provoked. "Don't get all sentimental with me, c'mon." 

"Sentimental?" David repeated, his eyes widening, and adverting to the ground beneath. Pretended to be interested in the disarray of trampled-over leaves on the sidewalk. He couldn't figure out what the big deal was- maybe Jack was convinced they had grown apart? That their lives didn't align? "I'm not being-"

-“Hey Dave, sorry to cut our meeting short but I really gotta sell me my last papes now, alright?” 

David felt a physical stab to his heart. He opened his mouth to speak- closed it, and opened it again. "Oh. Yes, of course... Do you need help? It'll go faster if we work together- the two of us."

"Nah, I can handle it." Jack grinned, playfully punching David's shoulder- and David didn't even feel it. All he could do was watch Jack turn away. "But it's been real nice to see ya, Davey."

"Wait!" David exclaimed. He caught Jack by the wrist, hoping it would convince him to stay for just a little longer. Maybe, just _maybe_ Jack would understand if he explained it all. The feelings he'd been harboring, the walls he built around himself out of fear. Would it be better, if he broke them down? Was that what Jack wanted?

His throat felt sore when he started to speak. -"Jack, I-"

"Don't, Davey." Jack whispered. "Don't you say it."

Before David possibly could begin to comprehend those words, Jack turned around and hurried along Park Row. Didn't even bother looking back.

_"Jack?"_

David was left on the sidewalk. Eyes stinging, his body shaking. He wanted to fall to his knees and scream- and he would have done just that if it weren't for the people passing by. They walked past, the world carrying on around him, as he just stood there. Alone.

He glanced down at the paper in his hand. He unconsciously had been gripping it tightly, the paper crumpled up in his fist. He wanted to drop it, leave it by the road like Jack had done to _him_ , but couldn't bring himself to do it. David lost Jack and still was desperately trying to hold onto him in some way- even if it was this stupid newspaper.

He lost someone who never even belonged to him. 

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: those were indeed real articles published in The World, September 7th, 1900.


End file.
